Sex and Sausages
by Monkeyfunk08
Summary: A fun loving, freespirited blonde could bring senses to those who have none, and end the relationship that never truly existed in the heart.
1. Chapter 1

I seriously can't think of a good title, so if anyone has any suggestions as the story unfolds, I'd be very grateful. For now I'm going to leave this as the working title, I think its really corny but it's 430 am and I'm slap happy. So anyways, I have never written a fanfic before, so comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

SEX AND SAUSAGES (WORKING TITLE)

Chapter 1

It was another day in the life of Zac Efron. Makeup at 5am, hair at 5:45, wardrobe at 6:30, and then straight to the set at 7AM. He sat in his stylist's cushy leather chair, patiently daydreaming and reminiscing on the past; before his celebrity status had hit him in the face like a ton of bricks. At first, all the glitz and glamour of Hollywood had left him star struck. He didn't mind waking up at 4am and spending 13 hours or more on the set of his next blockbuster smash hit singing and dancing spectacular. But now, fame has gotten to him. It's hard enough dealing with the constant harassment from the rabid paparazzi, desperately trying to catch him at his worst- whether it be fixing a wedgy on the street, picking his nose privately in the comfort of his brand new Audi A8, or scratching his balls on the sandy beaches of Maui. I mean come on! When is it such a sin for a guy to adjust himself every once in a while? Sand can get into every nook and cranny you can think of… And then there's the girlfriend. Sure, she's a nice, sweet wholesome girl. Well, at least until those scandalous nude photos got "leaked" for the world to see. What guy wants to share his girlfriend's naked body with some perverted 58 year old child molester? And we all know it wasn't even an accident. I mean, come on. V's a great girl, really. But sometimes it's hard to share the limelight with such a sought-after teen heartthrob like Zac. The scandal may have tainted her image a little, but it sure did wonders for her career. The couple is now seen daily in celeb gossip rags all over America- Tigerbeat, J-14, Seventeen, you name it!

"Can you tilt your head a little to the right for me hun?" Zac's stylist, Jay said, quickly snapping him out of his rather lengthy daydream-rant.

"Oh yeah.. sure" Zac quickly did has he was told, as he always does. Everyone seems to think he's such a diva for holding out on High School Musical 3, supposedly thinking he deserved a greater profit. But what Perez doesn't write about in his nasty blog is that that was what Disney told him to do. Yes, they told him. How could HSM3 possibly survive without their beloved Troy Bolton? Who could replace Zac's crystal blue eyes and handsome boyish looks? What an uproar the mere thought of Zac not returning for a 3rd dose of HSM caused the teeny bopper world! Zac could really care less how much money he made or not. He was very content with what he had. He was totally fine driving his not-so-Hollywood '99 Oldsmobile Alero his grandpa had given him. It was sentimental. But after his girlfriend constantly complained about his lame ride for months and months, he finally dished out the cash for his new Audi.

"Alright, you're all set. And ahead of schedule too." Jay spun his chair around so that Zac could see himself in the mirror. He thought he looked the same as yesterday.

"Gorgeous! They really don't pay me enough here... for what I can do with a scissors and some lubricating gel! Maybe I'll organize a strike for makeup artists and hair stylists. We could stand alongside those damned writers who make me watch reruns of Grey's and Conan every week, and maybe we'll make them look so gorgeous they'll change their minds about the whole thing and go back to working for peanuts!" he sighed, and Zac wondered if he was actually serious.

"You can go chill for a few until they call you on set, but DON'T TOUCH THE HAIR!"

Zac lazily slid out of the chair, gladly escaping the acetone and burnt-hair smell of the dressing rooms. He casually walked around the studio, not knowing what to do with himself and his 15 glorious minutes of free time. And then, it came to him. Like the ethereal voices of angels singing from the heavens, a tantalizing aroma reached his nostrils. He followed the smell all the way across the entire football-field-length studio, until he reached it- the break room. Normally he ate his breakfast alone in his trailer. It usually consisted of some odd smelling shake that tasted like grass. His trainer said that it was "high protein" and it would help him gain lean muscle without adding any fat. But what Zac really longed for was a nice, juicy sausage in the morning every once in a while. Or maybe some bacon and eggs, he really didn't care. However, he no longer had the luxury of being able to eat what he wanted. Just like his hectic schedule, everything he put in his mouth was also careful planned and plotted by trained professionals. So imagine his excitement when he found himself standing in the empty break room with a lonely table full of donuts, French toast, pancakes, sausages, bacon, eggs, and all sorts of other fattening yet heavenly breakfast items. There they were right in front of him- unguarded, just an arm's length away, and there was no personal trainer there hovering over his shoulder to slap him on the wrist for trying to "poison his body" with a little bacon grease now and then. He slowly approached the table, cautiously scanning the room one more time, just to make sure he wouldn't get caught sampling the goodies. He quickly snatched up a sausage and piece of bacon and shoved the both of them into his mouth. He lavished the intense flavor to its fullest, and quickly went back for seconds, grabbing another sausage and stuffing it in his mouth, much resembling Slimer from Ghostbusters.

The sausage fest continued until Zac was abruptly interrupted by the sound of muffled laughter behind him. He turned in horror to face a beautiful girl he didn't recognize, and stood in a dumb stupor with remnants of sausage and bacon grease shining on his chin.

"So I take it you really do like sausage then?" the beautiful blonde said in a sarcastic tone.

Zac remained dumbfounded until he could let the words " Urmhmm yes?" escape from his mouth. He quickly tried to cover up his ridiculous behavior.

"Well I mean yeah, well I'm not gay or anything" he was quite used to the gay rumors.

"Right. Well, I was going to let everyone know I convinced catering to finally cook us some breakfast before this morning's shoot, but I don't think there's gonna be much left for the camera crew after your done with it." Zac could feel his face reddening at this comment, but the girl smiled, easing his embarrassment. "Well, you'd think with all your other benefits they'd actually be feeding you.. sheesh. Oh wait, let me guess. They have you following some crazy Hollywood fad beep diet right?" he laughed at her brashness, and started to become slightly more at ease. He couldn't help looking at her. She was everything Vanessa wasn't- tall, curvaceous, blonde. She wasn't petite in any way, and had the quintessential womanly body. The girl, obviously noticing his wandering eyes, gave a slight uncomfortable laugh and extended a hand. "I'm Bridgette. I just moved here for the summer from Detroit, and I'm still getting used to the quirky Californian ways of life, haha. My dad's friend got me a job here as a production assistant, because he knows how much I want to work in the film industry someday."

"Oh, so you want to be an actress?" Zac began to think this girl was just another clone trying to use him to get her big break, just like so many others had done before. Bridgette laughed at his assumption.

"Haha yeah right. I'm way too smart to act. Sorry, no offense. I just don't like that people strive so hard to break into showbiz just to get fame and fortune. Fame kind of scares me. It's so permanent, because once you're famous, you can never go back to living a normal life. People will always recognize you, no matter how hard you try to escape them, and the media just loves to tear celebrities apart. No, I'd much rather direct or produce. At least then I'd get to put my creative input into the film and move millions of people with my talent- but not have to worry about people stalking me and going through my trash at 4am to look for some deep dark secret or something crazy like that."

At this, Zac couldn't help but laugh. He knew exactly where she was coming from, and at the same time, she wasn't coming from it, because she wasn't famous. How could someone relate to him so well and yet not have experienced the current position he was in?

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I steal a donut before I leave you to your binging, but I'm starving and call time is in 2 minutes." And at that, she grabbed a donut, not checking the label on the box to see how many calories and fat grams it contained, and indifferently began to eat it as she walked out of the break room and back into the studio.

'hat the hell? Zac thought. A girl on the west coast who reprehends fame, eats donuts without the slightest care, and gorgeous too? Did she just accuse him of being bulimic?? Her choice of the word "binging" was unsettling. As much as he wanted to be offended by her off-color comment, he couldn't help but be intrigued. And she had just walked out of the room as if he was some random guy she could care less about. 'Wow, fame must really be getting to my head', he thought. The lack of interest and attention she gave him was a nice refreshing change. As he heard his name being called over the loudspeaker to get on set he stared at the table of forbidden food. Just like the sausages, this mysterious, intriguing girl also had him wanting more.


	2. Dirty Little Secret

All through the 26 takes it finally took to get the scene right, Zac could not take his mind of the mysterious beauty he had met earlier. It didn't help that halfway through a good take he would see her busily walking from director to producer and various other executives, making sure their coffee mugs never reached empty and if they had any other little errands for her to run. He hadn't noticed before what she was wearing, only the perfect hourglass shape her body seemed to form. Her perfectly pressed black pencil skirt hugged her shapely hips so tightly he wondered how she had been able to squeeze into it. The satiny white blouse fell dangerously low as she bent over to watch the VTR with as much intensity as the director.

"CUT! Zac! What is wrong with you today? We've been running this scene for over an hour and my eyes are beginning to bleed in pain!" cried the angry director, a short, greying man with an eccentricity about him.

"Sorry, I just... didn't sleep well last night and I'm having trouble concentrating." he lied.

"Alright well do you think you can muster up some strength to pull yourself together so we can move on please?"

The next few hours passed by very slowly as Zac struggled to keep his eyes off of the blonde. It was so hard not to see her; her golden hair shone so brightly against the studio lights that it created an almost halo about her. He was relieved to finally hear the break bell and quickly left the set for his trailer.

"And where are you off to in such a rush? he heard a grizzly voice behind him. It was Camera B operator Rick, a heavyset, scruffy man dressed in a dirty T-shirt and cargo shorts. "Have you been taking crack, man? I told you not to mess with that stuff, it ain't pretty! I've never seen you so skittish on the set before."

"Haha... oh, about that... no, no drugs for me. Like I said, I just had a lot of trouble sleeping last night and I'm pretty exhausted. So I was just heading to my trailer to go take a na..."

"Well then lay off the speed, kid, will ya? Everyone knows it causes insomnia. Gotta stay away from that stuff. Haven't touched it in 15 years." Zac rolled his eyes and continued walking in the direction of his trailer. He was used to hearing this from Rick, so he took it all with a grain of salt.

"See you in an hour, Rick." he called over his shoulder. He was not in the mood for distractions now. He just wanted to go to his trailer and be alone. As much as he'd like to look at Bridgette, he was also tired of being hounded at for his lack of concentration. He was, after all, an actor, and he was dedicated to his craft- no matter how hard it might be at times.

Just as he was approaching the steps, he heard another voice in the distance behind him.

"Hey, Zac! Whattya want for lunch? The boys and I were goin' down to the catering tent for some chow. Want us to bring you anything back?" Leon, Camera A operator yelled out; he was definitely the loudest of the bunch.

His patience now waning, Zac quickly responded "No" with some hardly audible excuse and quickly entered his trailer, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. He flopped down on his leather couch and looked up at the boring grey ceiling. Breathing in calm and deeply he attempted to clear his mind and settle his raging hormones. No sooner had he taken his 10th breath when he heard knocking at the door. He sighed in frustration and reluctantly answered, expecting yet another interruption from one of the friendly yet irritating cameramen. He half jumped as he opened the door to the smiling blonde with a tray of food in hand. His stomach had dropped ten floors after opening the door to the one person he least expected, and to make matters worse, from his angle he could more clearly see down her shirt; slightly exposing the black lace bra she was wearing. Her pale, soft skin filled it out perfectly, and the curve of her cleavage was even more pronounced from his view.His lower regions quivered slightly, and he had to steady himself against the frame of his trailer for support.

"Mind if I come in?" she said while walking through the door, not waiting for the answer. He caught the sweet, flowery scent of her perfume as her hair brushed past his face. With another jolt he forced himself to think of dying kittens so as to control of the region beneath his quickly tightening jeans.

"Uhh, sure." Zac responded as he shut the door behind them.

"Nice place you got here. I think it's almost bigger than my apartment." she said with a laugh and placed the tray of food on Zac's messy table strewn with all sorts of magazines and newspaper articles. She picked up an issue of "People" that was lying on top and fanned through it casually, stopping at an article that featured Zac and his love of sushi.

"Sushi ga suki desu ka?" she said to him with a completely straight face. Zac was confused and taken off guard at her quick change of language.

"Uh, what?"

"Oh come on, you like sushi but you don't speak Japanese? she said, again completely serious.

"I'm sorry... I wasn't aware that you had to be able to speak Japanese to like sushi." he said in jest, but she was already off that topic.

"I see you like to read up on yourself." she said with a teasing smirk.

"Ha ha no, I actually bought that issue for their article on the top ten trendiest LA nightclubs."

"Well, why? Aren't you like, 16? They wouldn't let you in, would they?"

At this comment Zac's cheeks again began to redden in embarrassment. "Well, actually I'm 20 and sometimes they make exceptions."

"Oh so you mean they let you in if your considered famous enough, is that right? And to think I had to wait 21 long years just like the rest of us lowly commoners."

He felt the hairs on his arms start to prickle- he absolutely hated when anyone tried to call him a prick simply because he was famous. However, the girl had already lost interest and was now wandering around the rest of his trailer, completely disregarding the now beet-red Zac who was standing only a few feet behind her.

Well anyways, your trainer had me bring you some lunch so you can 're-energize' yourself for the upcoming few hours of filming or whatever crazy bullshit he was talking about. Her pink Blackberry began to vibrate and glowed underneath her blouse. She reached into her bra and pulled it out, quickly read the text and replaced the phone back to its treasured keeping place.

"You keep your phone in your bra?" Zac said, half amused and half in awe.

"Where else is a girl with no pockets to keep it?" she said, motioning to her skirt. And with that, she swiftly opened the door, gracefully glided out, and shut it behind her-gone as quickly and as much without a warning as she had come.

Zac didn't know what to think. Was she playfully flirting with him by giving him a hard time about the People magazine, or did she honestly think he was a self-absorbed prick everyone else seemed to think he was? He had honestly bought the magazine for the nightclub article, although he knew he could never visit any of them; his image would surely be blemished if the paparazzi ever caught him strolling into a hot overaged nightclub. He began to chew the alfafa sprout and tuna wrap his trainer had sent to him, and searched the tray for any other elf food he might find more satisfying, but there was none.

The last few hours of shooting were almost as agonizing as the first; except this time he was not distracted by the voluptuous beauty before him, but by the thoughts that kept running through his mind: "Did she really think I was 16?" Sure, he was a Disney heartthrob for tweens across the globe, and his face was on many children's backpacks, but does he really look like a 16 year old boy, or was she merely mistaken due to the main demographic of his audience?

The final bell rang and Zac had never felt so relieved to be walking off the set and back to the fancy new car he loathed. He put the key in the ignition and turned, only to hear the "click click" of a dead battery. "What the hell. Seriously, I can't get a fucking break today can I?" Zac muttered under his breath as he lifted up the front hood of his Audi A8 to see the innards of his vehicle. He had never missed his grandpa's old car more than he did now. "Damn foreign cars!" he groaned, half wanting to kick the $73,000 lemon he now owned.

"Having a problem?" he heard the cool, feminine voice call out behind him. How many times would he embarrass himself in front of this chick today?

"Need a ride, or will the wind mess up your hair?" she called from the driver's seat of her red hot Ford Mustang convertible. "You're right. Foreign cars are shitty. Thanks for helping out our economy by buying one!"

It took him a few seconds for his thoughts to register. He was having a rather heated debate in his brain- he could either take the ride she so generously offered him and risk humiliating himself for like the 50th time today, or he could sit outside in the darkened backlot and wait for the AAA roadside assistance truck to battle its way through the LA rush hour traffic to come to his rescue.

He decided to risk it. He'd rather be humiliated than ass-raped by some crazy fan. After stepping into her car he immediately felt a sense of regret. Firstly, he just left his first big pay check sitting dead in a hardly well-guarded studio backlot. Secondly, he wasn't worried that his hair would get messed up, however he was concerned that if he was spotted with some random girl driving through the streets of LA, the paps would have a field day. He could just see the headline now: "Two-timing Zac Does Double Duty With Girlfriend Vanessa and New Red-Hot Blonde"

"Um, sorry, but do you mind if we put the top up?" Zac said weakly.

The blonde simply grinned. "So your stylist really didn't put a large enough helmet of hairspray in your hair to keep it in place from a little wind?" she teased.

"No, but I'm kind of worried that someone might see me and..."

"...don't worry, I gotcha." she said, and turned down the next side street they passed. She parked at the side of the road, pulled up the parking break and pushed the button for her convertible top to begin its slow ascent.

"That must suck."

"What?"

"Not being able to drive around in a convertible because the paparazzi would swarm you." he was surprised at her sudden sympathy for him; it was the first thing she said to him all day that hadn't caused him some form of embarrassment. "Do you mind if we make a pit stop at my place? I was gonna go clubbing with some friends but I'd like to change first and my apartment is on the way to yours."

"Yeah sure, that's fine." Zac replied, envying her ability to party with friends and not worry about being stampeded by vicious photographers.

"Here we are." They pulled into the parking lot of a quiet, well-lit apartment complex. Zac followed close behind as she climbed the staircase in heels with ease, and he carefully looked away to avoid staring straight at her butt which was in perfect view from his position on the stairs.

After a brief pause while she jangled the keys and unlocked the door to her apartment, the two stepped inside. She was right; his trailer could possibly be bigger than her entire apartment, but it was well decorated and had a warm and welcoming feel about it. As she walked toward her bedroom and took off her shirt, to Zac's immediate surprise at her openness, she motioned to the kitchen and told him there were some Pepsis in the fridge. He wasn't exactly in the mood for a soda, but at this point he would stand for anything to give him an excuse to pretend he was doing something useful with himself. After a few minutes she reappeared at the door of the kitchen, and he almost dropped his drink. She was wearing a skin-tight, low cut black halter dress and shoes with such a thin heel Zac wondered how much it would hurt for someone's foot to get stepped on by them.

Zac coughed and choked on the fizzy soda, and then tried to cover it up by starting casual conversation. "So, where did you say you were going again?"

"The Viper Room. They're having their first annual "Dirty, Sexy, Muddy" party and some of my friends invited me to come."

"Dirty, Sexy, Muddy?" Zac said, confused.

"Yeah, they flood the dance floor with mud and randomly pour buckets of it on people as they're dancing. They're also gonna have a mud wrestling ring and everything, it sounds like tons of fun."

Zac stirred at the thought of her covered from head to toe in mud, playfully asking him to hose her down in his shower. He quickly pulled his mind out of the gutter.

"You wanna come? Or are you afraid of gettin' a little dirty?" she said coyly.

It took every strength in his body to spit out the words, but he knew there was no other option. "Sorry, but I can't. Everywhere I go I'm recognized and if I'm seen entering some nightclub I definitely will never hear the end of it from my manager, my girlfriend, and my parents."

"So do you always let the possibility of being lectured by people who should hold no power over you keep you from having a little fun now and then? Man, sounds like the most boring life ever. Now I get the emo hair."

"Well it's not just them I have to answer to, you know," he said defensively, "I have young fans that look up to me and I don't want to taint my image."

"Aww, that's really sweet. But your life still sucks. No worries though, I have an idea."


End file.
